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Macbeth

William Shakespeare · 1606 · the complete play, paired with StoryBites

Chapter 3 / 5

Act 3The Ghost at the Feast

Editorially reviewed · original meaning preserved

SCENE I. Forres. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Banquo.

BANQUO. Thou hast it now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, all, As the Weird Women promis’d; and, I fear, Thou play’dst most foully for’t; yet it was said It should not stand in thy posterity; But that myself should be the root and father Of many kings. If there come truth from them (As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine) Why, by the verities on thee made good, May they not be my oracles as well, And set me up in hope? But hush; no more.

BANQUO. You have it all now, King, Cawdor, Glamis, everything the Weird Women promised; and I fear you played most foully to get it. Yet it was foretold that the crown would not pass to your descendants, but that I myself should be the root and father of many kings. If truth ever came from them (as it shines out in your case, Macbeth), then, by the truths proved true in you, why may they not be my oracles too, and lift me into hope? But hush; no more.

Sennet sounded. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth as Queen; Lennox, Ross, Lords, and Attendants.

A trumpet flourish sounds. Enter Macbeth as King, Lady Macbeth as Queen; Lennox, Ross, Lords, and Attendants.

MACBETH. Here’s our chief guest.

MACBETH. Here is our chief guest.

LADY MACBETH. If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all-thing unbecoming.

LADY MACBETH. If he had been forgotten, it would have left a gap in our great feast, and everything would have seemed unfitting.

MACBETH. Tonight we hold a solemn supper, sir, And I’ll request your presence.

MACBETH. Tonight we hold a formal banquet, sir, and I request your presence.

BANQUO. Let your Highness Command upon me, to the which my duties Are with a most indissoluble tie For ever knit.

BANQUO. Let your Highness lay your command on me; my duties are bound to you with a tie that can never be undone, forever knit.

MACBETH. Ride you this afternoon?

MACBETH. Do you ride out this afternoon?

BANQUO. Ay, my good lord.

BANQUO. Yes, my good lord.

MACBETH. We should have else desir’d your good advice (Which still hath been both grave and prosperous) In this day’s council; but we’ll take tomorrow. Is’t far you ride?

MACBETH. Otherwise we would have wanted your good advice (which has always been both wise and beneficial) in today's council; but we will take it tomorrow. Do you ride far?

BANQUO. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time ’Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, I must become a borrower of the night, For a dark hour or twain.

BANQUO. Far enough, my lord, to fill the time between now and supper. Unless my horse goes better than expected, I shall have to borrow an hour or two of the dark night.

MACBETH. Fail not our feast.

MACBETH. Do not miss our feast.

BANQUO. My lord, I will not.

MACBETH. We hear our bloody cousins are bestow’d In England and in Ireland; not confessing Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers With strange invention. But of that tomorrow, When therewithal we shall have cause of state Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you?

MACBETH. We hear that our murderous cousins have settled in England and in Ireland, not confessing their cruel killing of their father, but filling their listeners with strange inventions. But we will speak of that tomorrow, when matters of state will call us both together. Off to your horse; farewell, until you return tonight. Does Fleance go with you?

BANQUO. Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon’s.

BANQUO. Yes, my good lord; our time is calling us on.

MACBETH. I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell.—

MACBETH. I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; and so I entrust you to their backs. Farewell.

[_Exit Banquo._]

Let every man be master of his time Till seven at night; to make society The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself Till supper time alone: while then, God be with you.

Let every man be master of his own time until seven tonight. To make the company all the more welcome, we will keep to ourself until supper time. Until then, God be with you.

[_Exeunt Lady Macbeth, Lords, &c._]

[_Exeunt Lady Macbeth, Lords, etc._]

Sirrah, a word with you. Attend those men Our pleasure?

You there, a word with you. Are those men waiting on our pleasure?

SERVANT. They are, my lord, without the palace gate.

SERVANT. They are, my lord, outside the palace gate.

MACBETH. Bring them before us.

[_Exit Servant._]

To be thus is nothing, But to be safely thus. Our fears in Banquo Stick deep, and in his royalty of nature Reigns that which would be fear’d: ’tis much he dares; And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour To act in safety. There is none but he Whose being I do fear: and under him My genius is rebuk’d; as, it is said, Mark Antony’s was by Caesar. He chid the sisters When first they put the name of king upon me, And bade them speak to him; then, prophet-like, They hail’d him father to a line of kings: Upon my head they plac’d a fruitless crown, And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, Thence to be wrench’d with an unlineal hand, No son of mine succeeding. If’t be so, For Banquo’s issue have I fil’d my mind; For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d; Put rancours in the vessel of my peace Only for them; and mine eternal jewel Given to the common enemy of man, To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! Rather than so, come, fate, into the list, And champion me to th’ utterance!—Who’s there?—

To be king is nothing, unless I am safely king. My fears of Banquo pierce deep, and in his royal nature reigns exactly what should be feared. He dares much; and, beyond that fearless temper of his mind, he has a wisdom that guides his courage to act with safety. There is no one but him whose very existence I fear; and in his presence my guardian spirit is subdued, as they say Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He rebuked the sisters when they first put the name of king upon me, and told them to speak to him; then, like prophets, they hailed him father to a line of kings. Upon my head they placed a barren crown, and put a fruitless sceptre in my grip, to be wrenched away by a hand not of my line, no son of mine succeeding. If it is so, then for Banquo's children I have defiled my mind; for them I murdered the gracious Duncan; put poison of guilt in the cup of my peace only for them; and given my eternal soul to the devil, the common enemy of mankind, to make them kings, the descendants of Banquo kings! Rather than that, come, fate, into the tournament ground, and fight for me to the death! Who's there?

Enter Servant with two Murderers.

Now go to the door, and stay there till we call.

Now go to the door, and wait there until we call.

[_Exit Servant._]

Was it not yesterday we spoke together?

Was it not yesterday that we spoke together?

FIRST MURDERER. It was, so please your Highness.

FIRST MURDERER. It was, if it please your Highness.

MACBETH. Well then, now Have you consider’d of my speeches? Know That it was he, in the times past, which held you So under fortune, which you thought had been Our innocent self? This I made good to you In our last conference, pass’d in probation with you How you were borne in hand, how cross’d, the instruments, Who wrought with them, and all things else that might To half a soul and to a notion craz’d Say, “Thus did Banquo.”

MACBETH. Well then, now, have you thought over what I said? Understand that it was he, in times past, who held you down so beneath your fortune, though you thought it was our innocent self. This I proved to you in our last meeting; I showed you clearly how you were deceived, how you were thwarted, the tools used, who worked with them, and everything else that would make even a half-wit or a crazed mind say, "Thus did Banquo."

FIRST MURDERER. You made it known to us.

MACBETH. I did so; and went further, which is now Our point of second meeting. Do you find Your patience so predominant in your nature, That you can let this go? Are you so gospell’d, To pray for this good man and for his issue, Whose heavy hand hath bow’d you to the grave, And beggar’d yours forever?

MACBETH. I did; and I went further, which is the point of this second meeting. Do you find your patience so dominant in your nature that you can let this go? Are you so filled with gospel that you would pray for this good man and for his children, whose heavy hand has bowed you toward the grave and made beggars of your family forever?

FIRST MURDERER. We are men, my liege.

MACBETH. Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clept All by the name of dogs: the valu’d file Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, The housekeeper, the hunter, every one According to the gift which bounteous nature Hath in him clos’d; whereby he does receive Particular addition, from the bill That writes them all alike: and so of men. Now, if you have a station in the file, Not i’ th’ worst rank of manhood, say’t; And I will put that business in your bosoms, Whose execution takes your enemy off, Grapples you to the heart and love of us, Who wear our health but sickly in his life, Which in his death were perfect.

MACBETH. Yes, in the general list you count as men; just as hounds, greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, shaggy lapdogs, water-dogs, and half-wolves are all called by the name of dogs. But the classified list distinguishes the swift, the slow, the clever, the watchdog, the hunter, each according to the gift bountiful nature has enclosed in him; so each receives a special title beyond the general label that lists them all alike. And so it is with men. Now, if you hold a place in the ranks, not in the lowest order of manhood, say so; and I will put into your hearts a task whose doing removes your enemy and binds you to our heart and love, for we hold our health but poorly while he lives, which in his death would be made whole.

SECOND MURDERER. I am one, my liege, Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world Hath so incens’d that I am reckless what I do to spite the world.

SECOND MURDERER. I am one, my liege, whom the vile blows and buffets of the world have so enraged that I am reckless of whatever I do to spite the world.

FIRST MURDERER. And I another, So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune, That I would set my life on any chance, To mend it or be rid on’t.

FIRST MURDERER. And I am another, so weary with disasters and battered by fortune that I would stake my life on any chance, either to mend it or be rid of it.

MACBETH. Both of you Know Banquo was your enemy.

MACBETH. Both of you know Banquo was your enemy.

BOTH MURDERERS. True, my lord.

MACBETH. So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, That every minute of his being thrusts Against my near’st of life; and though I could With barefac’d power sweep him from my sight, And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, For certain friends that are both his and mine, Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall Who I myself struck down: and thence it is That I to your assistance do make love, Masking the business from the common eye For sundry weighty reasons.

MACBETH. So is he mine; and in such deadly nearness that every minute of his life stabs against my very existence. Though I could sweep him from my sight with naked power, and justify it by my mere will, yet I must not, because of certain friends who are both his and mine, whose love I may not lose; instead I must mourn the fall of one I myself struck down. And so it is that I court your help, masking the business from the common eye for several weighty reasons.

SECOND MURDERER. We shall, my lord, Perform what you command us.

SECOND MURDERER. We shall, my lord, do what you command us.

FIRST MURDERER. Though our lives—

FIRST MURDERER. Though our lives...

MACBETH. Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most, I will advise you where to plant yourselves, Acquaint you with the perfect spy o’ th’ time, The moment on’t; for’t must be done tonight And something from the palace; always thought That I require a clearness. And with him (To leave no rubs nor botches in the work) Fleance his son, that keeps him company, Whose absence is no less material to me Than is his father’s, must embrace the fate Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart. I’ll come to you anon.

MACBETH. Your courage shines through you. Within an hour at most I will tell you where to place yourselves, and give you the perfect knowledge of the timing, the very moment; for it must be done tonight, and some distance from the palace. Remember always that I require to be kept clear of it. And with him (to leave no flaws or botches in the work) Fleance his son, who keeps him company, whose death matters no less to me than his father's, must share the fate of that dark hour. Decide by yourselves, apart. I will come to you shortly.

BOTH MURDERERS. We are resolv’d, my lord.

BOTH MURDERERS. We are resolved, my lord.

MACBETH. I’ll call upon you straight: abide within.

MACBETH. I will call for you at once; wait inside.

[_Exeunt Murderers._]

It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul’s flight, If it find heaven, must find it out tonight.

It is settled. Banquo, if your soul is to reach heaven, it must find its way there tonight.

[_Exit._]

SCENE II. The same. Another Room in the Palace.

Enter Lady Macbeth and a Servant.

LADY MACBETH. Is Banquo gone from court?

LADY MACBETH. Has Banquo gone from court?

SERVANT. Ay, madam, but returns again tonight.

SERVANT. Yes, madam, but he returns again tonight.

LADY MACBETH. Say to the King, I would attend his leisure For a few words.

LADY MACBETH. Tell the King that I would like to wait upon him, when he is free, for a few words.

SERVANT. Madam, I will.

[_Exit._]

LADY MACBETH. Naught’s had, all’s spent, Where our desire is got without content: ’Tis safer to be that which we destroy, Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.

LADY MACBETH. Nothing is gained, everything is wasted, when our desire is got but brings no contentment. It is safer to be the thing we destroy than by destroying to live in doubtful joy.

Enter Macbeth.

How now, my lord, why do you keep alone, Of sorriest fancies your companions making, Using those thoughts which should indeed have died With them they think on? Things without all remedy Should be without regard: what’s done is done.

How now, my lord, why do you keep alone, making the saddest fancies your companions, dwelling on thoughts that should truly have died with those they concern? Things beyond all remedy should be beyond all regard: what's done is done.

MACBETH. We have scorch’d the snake, not kill’d it. She’ll close, and be herself; whilst our poor malice Remains in danger of her former tooth. But let the frame of things disjoint, Both the worlds suffer, Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep In the affliction of these terrible dreams That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well; Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing Can touch him further.

MACBETH. We have slashed the snake, not killed it. She will heal and be whole again, while our feeble malice stays in danger of her fangs as before. But let the whole order of things fall apart, let both heaven and earth suffer, before we will eat our meals in fear and sleep in the torment of these terrible dreams that shake us every night. Better to be with the dead, whom we sent to peace to gain our own peace, than to lie on the rack of the mind in restless torment. Duncan is in his grave; after life's fitful fever he sleeps well. Treason has done its worst: not steel, nor poison, nor domestic malice, nor foreign armies, nothing can touch him further.

LADY MACBETH. Come on, Gently my lord, sleek o’er your rugged looks; Be bright and jovial among your guests tonight.

LADY MACBETH. Come now, gently, my lord; smooth over your rough looks; be bright and merry among your guests tonight.

MACBETH. So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you. Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: Unsafe the while, that we Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, And make our faces vizards to our hearts, Disguising what they are.

MACBETH. So I shall, my love; and so, I pray, be you. Let your attention rest on Banquo; give him prominence with both your eyes and your tongue. We are unsafe for now, having to bathe our honours in these flattering streams and make our faces masks to our hearts, disguising what they truly are.

LADY MACBETH. You must leave this.

LADY MACBETH. You must stop this.

MACBETH. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! Thou know’st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives.

MACBETH. Oh, my mind is full of scorpions, dear wife! You know that Banquo, and his Fleance, still live.

LADY MACBETH. But in them nature’s copy’s not eterne.

LADY MACBETH. But nature did not grant them a lease that lasts forever.

MACBETH. There’s comfort yet; they are assailable. Then be thou jocund. Ere the bat hath flown His cloister’d flight, ere to black Hecate’s summons The shard-born beetle, with his drowsy hums, Hath rung night’s yawning peal, there shall be done A deed of dreadful note.

MACBETH. There is comfort in that; they can be reached. So be cheerful. Before the bat has flown its cloistered flight, before the dung-bred beetle, at black Hecate's summons, has rung the drowsy bell of night with his sleepy hum, a deed of dreadful note shall be done.

LADY MACBETH. What’s to be done?

LADY MACBETH. What is to be done?

MACBETH. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day, And with thy bloody and invisible hand Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond Which keeps me pale!—Light thickens; and the crow Makes wing to th’ rooky wood. Good things of day begin to droop and drowse, Whiles night’s black agents to their preys do rouse. Thou marvell’st at my words: but hold thee still; Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. So, pr’ythee, go with me.

MACBETH. Stay innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, until you can applaud the deed. Come, blinding night, and blindfold the tender eye of pitying day, and with your bloody, invisible hand cancel and tear to pieces that great bond that keeps me pale with fear! The light thickens; and the crow flies to the darkening wood. The good creatures of day begin to droop and grow drowsy, while night's black agents rouse to their prey. You marvel at my words: but hold still; things begun in evil grow strong by more evil. So, I pray you, come with me.

[_Exeunt._]

SCENE III. The same. A Park or Lawn, with a gate leading to the Palace.

Enter three Murderers.

FIRST MURDERER. But who did bid thee join with us?

FIRST MURDERER. But who told you to join us?

THIRD MURDERER. Macbeth.

SECOND MURDERER. He needs not our mistrust; since he delivers Our offices and what we have to do To the direction just.

SECOND MURDERER. We need not distrust him, since he lays out our tasks and what we must do exactly according to the plan.

FIRST MURDERER. Then stand with us. The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day. Now spurs the lated traveller apace, To gain the timely inn; and near approaches The subject of our watch.

FIRST MURDERER. Then stand with us. The west still glimmers with a few streaks of daylight. Now the belated traveller spurs on to reach the inn in good time; and the one we watch for is drawing near.

THIRD MURDERER. Hark! I hear horses.

THIRD MURDERER. Listen! I hear horses.

BANQUO. [_Within._] Give us a light there, ho!

SECOND MURDERER. Then ’tis he; the rest That are within the note of expectation Already are i’ th’ court.

SECOND MURDERER. Then it is he; the rest of the expected guests are already in the court.

FIRST MURDERER. His horses go about.

FIRST MURDERER. His horses are being led around another way.

THIRD MURDERER. Almost a mile; but he does usually, So all men do, from hence to the palace gate Make it their walk.

THIRD MURDERER. Almost a mile; but he usually, as all men do, walks from here to the palace gate.

Enter Banquo and Fleance with a torch.

SECOND MURDERER. A light, a light!

THIRD MURDERER. ’Tis he.

THIRD MURDERER. It is he.

FIRST MURDERER. Stand to’t.

FIRST MURDERER. Get ready for it.

BANQUO. It will be rain tonight.

BANQUO. It will rain tonight.

FIRST MURDERER. Let it come down.

[_Assaults Banquo._]

BANQUO. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! Thou mayst revenge—O slave!

BANQUO. Oh, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! You may yet take revenge. Oh, villain!

[_Dies. Fleance escapes._]

THIRD MURDERER. Who did strike out the light?

THIRD MURDERER. Who struck out the light?

FIRST MURDERER. Was’t not the way?

FIRST MURDERER. Was that not the right thing to do?

THIRD MURDERER. There’s but one down: the son is fled.

THIRD MURDERER. There is only one down; the son has fled.

SECOND MURDERER. We have lost best half of our affair.

SECOND MURDERER. We have lost the better half of our business.

FIRST MURDERER. Well, let’s away, and say how much is done.

FIRST MURDERER. Well, let us away, and report how much is done.

[_Exeunt._]

SCENE IV. The same. A Room of state in the Palace.

A banquet prepared. Enter Macbeth, Lady Macbeth, Ross, Lennox, Lords and Attendants.

MACBETH. You know your own degrees, sit down. At first And last the hearty welcome.

MACBETH. You know your own ranks, sit down. To first and last, a hearty welcome.

LORDS. Thanks to your Majesty.

MACBETH. Ourself will mingle with society, And play the humble host. Our hostess keeps her state; but, in best time, We will require her welcome.

MACBETH. We ourself will mingle with the company and play the humble host. Our hostess keeps her royal seat; but, at the right moment, we will ask her to give her welcome.

LADY MACBETH. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; For my heart speaks they are welcome.

LADY MACBETH. Say it for me, sir, to all our friends; for my heart declares they are welcome.

Enter first Murderer to the door.

MACBETH. See, they encounter thee with their hearts’ thanks. Both sides are even: here I’ll sit i’ th’ midst.

MACBETH. See, they meet you with their hearts' thanks. Both sides of the table are even: here I will sit in the middle.

Be large in mirth; anon we’ll drink a measure The table round. There’s blood upon thy face.

Be free with your mirth; soon we will drink a round of toasts all round the table. There is blood upon your face.

MURDERER. ’Tis Banquo’s then.

MURDERER. It is Banquo's then.

MACBETH. ’Tis better thee without than he within. Is he dispatch’d?

MACBETH. It is better on you than inside him. Is he finished off?

MURDERER. My lord, his throat is cut. That I did for him.

MACBETH. Thou art the best o’ th’ cut-throats; Yet he’s good that did the like for Fleance: If thou didst it, thou art the nonpareil.

MACBETH. You are the best of the cut-throats; yet he is good too who did the same for Fleance. If you did that, you are without equal.

MURDERER. Most royal sir, Fleance is ’scap’d.

MURDERER. Most royal sir, Fleance has escaped.

MACBETH. Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect; Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, As broad and general as the casing air: But now I am cabin’d, cribb’d, confin’d, bound in To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo’s safe?

MACBETH. Then my fit comes over me again; otherwise I would have been perfect, whole as marble, firm as rock, as free and open as the surrounding air. But now I am penned, caged, confined, shut in by insolent doubts and fears. But Banquo is safely dead?

MURDERER. Ay, my good lord. Safe in a ditch he bides, With twenty trenched gashes on his head; The least a death to nature.

MURDERER. Yes, my good lord. He lies safe in a ditch, with twenty deep gashes on his head, the least of them enough to kill.

MACBETH. Thanks for that. There the grown serpent lies; the worm that’s fled Hath nature that in time will venom breed, No teeth for th’ present.—Get thee gone; tomorrow We’ll hear, ourselves, again.

MACBETH. Thanks for that. There the grown serpent lies; the young worm that has fled has a nature that in time will breed venom, though it has no teeth for the present. Be gone now; tomorrow we will hear from you again.

[_Exit Murderer._]

LADY MACBETH. My royal lord, You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold That is not often vouch’d, while ’tis a-making, ’Tis given with welcome. To feed were best at home; From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; Meeting were bare without it.

LADY MACBETH. My royal lord, you are not offering good cheer. A feast where the welcome is not warmly and often assured while it is being served is like a feast that is bought and sold. Just to feed, one had best stay home; away from home, the sauce that flavors the meat is ceremony; a meeting is bare without it.

The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth’s place.

The Ghost of Banquo rises, and sits in Macbeth's place.

MACBETH. Sweet remembrancer!— Now, good digestion wait on appetite, And health on both!

MACBETH. Sweet reminder! Now, good digestion attend appetite, and health on both!

LENNOX. May’t please your Highness sit.

LENNOX. May it please your Highness to sit.

MACBETH. Here had we now our country’s honour roof’d, Were the grac’d person of our Banquo present; Who may I rather challenge for unkindness Than pity for mischance!

MACBETH. We would now have all our country's honour under one roof, were the gracious person of our Banquo present; whom I would rather blame for unkindness than pity for some mishap!

ROSS. His absence, sir, Lays blame upon his promise. Please’t your Highness To grace us with your royal company?

ROSS. His absence, sir, casts blame upon his promise. Would it please your Highness to grace us with your royal company?

MACBETH. The table’s full.

MACBETH. The table is full.

LENNOX. Here is a place reserv’d, sir.

LENNOX. Here is a place reserved, sir.

MACBETH. Where?

LENNOX. Here, my good lord. What is’t that moves your Highness?

LENNOX. Here, my good lord. What is it that disturbs your Highness?

MACBETH. Which of you have done this?

MACBETH. Which of you has done this?

LORDS. What, my good lord?

LORDS. Done what, my good lord?

MACBETH. Thou canst not say I did it. Never shake Thy gory locks at me.

MACBETH. You cannot say I did it. Never shake your bloody hair at me.

ROSS. Gentlemen, rise; his Highness is not well.

LADY MACBETH. Sit, worthy friends. My lord is often thus, And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat; The fit is momentary; upon a thought He will again be well. If much you note him, You shall offend him, and extend his passion. Feed, and regard him not.—Are you a man?

LADY MACBETH. Sit, worthy friends. My lord is often like this, and has been from his youth: please, keep your seats. The fit is momentary; in a moment he will be well again. If you take much notice of him, you will offend him and prolong his frenzy. Eat, and pay him no heed. Are you a man?

MACBETH. Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that Which might appal the devil.

MACBETH. Yes, and a bold one, who dare look on what might terrify the devil.

LADY MACBETH. O proper stuff! This is the very painting of your fear: This is the air-drawn dagger which you said, Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws, and starts (Impostors to true fear), would well become A woman’s story at a winter’s fire, Authoris’d by her grandam. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces? When all’s done, You look but on a stool.

LADY MACBETH. Oh, what nonsense! This is the very picture of your fear: this is the dagger drawn in air that you said led you to Duncan. Oh, these outbursts and starts (counterfeits of real fear) would suit well a woman's tale told at a winter's fire, vouched for by her grandmother. Shame itself! Why do you make such faces? When all is done, you are only staring at a stool.

MACBETH. Pr’ythee, see there! Behold! look! lo! how say you? Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too.— If charnel houses and our graves must send Those that we bury back, our monuments Shall be the maws of kites.

MACBETH. I pray you, look there! Behold! Look! Lo! What do you say? Why, what do I care? If you can nod, speak too. If burial vaults and our graves must send back those we bury, then our tombs shall be the bellies of birds of prey.

[_Ghost disappears._]

LADY MACBETH. What, quite unmann’d in folly?

LADY MACBETH. What, quite unmanned by folly?

MACBETH. If I stand here, I saw him.

MACBETH. As surely as I stand here, I saw him.

LADY MACBETH. Fie, for shame!

MACBETH. Blood hath been shed ere now, i’ th’ olden time, Ere humane statute purg’d the gentle weal; Ay, and since too, murders have been perform’d Too terrible for the ear: the time has been, That, when the brains were out, the man would die, And there an end; but now they rise again, With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, And push us from our stools. This is more strange Than such a murder is.

MACBETH. Blood has been shed before now, in the ancient days, before human law cleansed and gentled the state; yes, and since then too, murders have been done too terrible for the ear. There was a time that, when the brains were out, the man would die, and there was an end of it; but now they rise again, with twenty deadly wounds on their heads, and push us from our seats. This is stranger than such a murder itself.

LADY MACBETH. My worthy lord, Your noble friends do lack you.

LADY MACBETH. My worthy lord, your noble friends are missing you.

MACBETH. I do forget.— Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends. I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing To those that know me. Come, love and health to all; Then I’ll sit down.—Give me some wine, fill full.— I drink to the general joy o’ th’ whole table, And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss: Would he were here.

MACBETH. I do forget myself. Do not wonder at me, my most worthy friends. I have a strange affliction, which is nothing to those who know me. Come, love and health to all; then I will sit down. Give me some wine, fill it full. I drink to the general joy of the whole table, and to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss. Would that he were here.

Ghost rises again.

To all, and him, we thirst, And all to all.

To all, and to him, we drink, and all to all.

LORDS. Our duties, and the pledge.

LORDS. Our duty, and the pledge in return.

MACBETH. Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee! Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; Thou hast no speculation in those eyes Which thou dost glare with!

MACBETH. Away! Out of my sight! Let the earth hide you! Your bones are without marrow, your blood is cold; you have no power of sight in those eyes you glare with!

LADY MACBETH. Think of this, good peers, But as a thing of custom: ’tis no other, Only it spoils the pleasure of the time.

LADY MACBETH. Think of this, good peers, as nothing but a habit of his; it is no more than that. Only it spoils the pleasure of the occasion.

MACBETH. What man dare, I dare: Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, The arm’d rhinoceros, or th’ Hyrcan tiger; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves Shall never tremble: or be alive again, And dare me to the desert with thy sword; If trembling I inhabit then, protest me The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! Unreal mock’ry, hence!

MACBETH. Whatever any man dares, I dare. Approach me like the rugged Russian bear, the armoured rhinoceros, or the Hyrcanian tiger; take any shape but that, and my firm nerves shall never tremble. Or come alive again, and challenge me to a duel in the desert with your sword; if I tremble and hide then, call me a little girl's doll. Away, horrible shadow! Unreal mockery, away!

[_Ghost disappears._]

Why, so;—being gone, I am a man again.—Pray you, sit still.

Why, so; now that it is gone, I am a man again. Please, sit still.

LADY MACBETH. You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting With most admir’d disorder.

LADY MACBETH. You have driven away the mirth and broken up the good gathering with this astonishing disorder.

MACBETH. Can such things be, And overcome us like a summer’s cloud, Without our special wonder? You make me strange Even to the disposition that I owe, When now I think you can behold such sights, And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, When mine are blanch’d with fear.

MACBETH. Can such things happen, and sweep over us like a summer's cloud, without our special amazement? You make me feel a stranger to my own nature, when I think how you can gaze upon such sights and keep the natural rosy colour in your cheeks, while mine are blanched with fear.

ROSS. What sights, my lord?

LADY MACBETH. I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; Question enrages him. At once, good night:— Stand not upon the order of your going, But go at once.

LADY MACBETH. I pray you, do not speak; he grows worse and worse; questions enrage him. At once, good night. Do not wait to leave in order of rank, but go all at once.

LENNOX. Good night; and better health Attend his Majesty!

LENNOX. Good night; and may better health attend his Majesty!

LADY MACBETH. A kind good night to all!

[_Exeunt all Lords and Attendants._]

MACBETH. It will have blood, they say, blood will have blood. Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak; Augurs, and understood relations, have By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth The secret’st man of blood.—What is the night?

MACBETH. It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood. Stones have been known to move, and trees to speak; omens and understood connections have, by magpies, jackdaws, and rooks, brought forth the most secret murderer. What time of night is it?

LADY MACBETH. Almost at odds with morning, which is which.

LADY MACBETH. Almost at the point where night and morning contend, which is which.

MACBETH. How say’st thou, that Macduff denies his person At our great bidding?

MACBETH. What do you say to this, that Macduff refuses to come at our solemn command?

LADY MACBETH. Did you send to him, sir?

LADY MACBETH. Did you send for him, sir?

MACBETH. I hear it by the way; but I will send. There’s not a one of them but in his house I keep a servant fee’d. I will tomorrow (And betimes I will) to the Weird Sisters: More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good, All causes shall give way: I am in blood Stepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o’er. Strange things I have in head, that will to hand, Which must be acted ere they may be scann’d.

MACBETH. I hear it indirectly; but I will send. There is not one of the nobles in whose house I do not keep a paid servant to spy. Tomorrow (and early I will go) I will visit the Weird Sisters. They shall speak more; for now I am determined to know the worst, by the worst means. For my own good, all other concerns shall give way. I am so far stepped in blood that, should I wade no further, going back would be as tiresome as going on. I have strange things in my head that will come to action, which must be done before they can be examined.

LADY MACBETH. You lack the season of all natures, sleep.

LADY MACBETH. You lack the seasoning of all natures, sleep.

MACBETH. Come, we’ll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse Is the initiate fear that wants hard use. We are yet but young in deed.

MACBETH. Come, we will go to sleep. My strange delusion is the beginner's fear that needs hard practice. We are still but young in these deeds.

[_Exeunt._]

SCENE V. The heath.

Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting Hecate.

FIRST WITCH. Why, how now, Hecate? you look angerly.

FIRST WITCH. Why, how now, Hecate? You look angry.

HECATE. Have I not reason, beldams as you are, Saucy and overbold? How did you dare To trade and traffic with Macbeth In riddles and affairs of death; And I, the mistress of your charms, The close contriver of all harms, Was never call’d to bear my part, Or show the glory of our art? And, which is worse, all you have done Hath been but for a wayward son, Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do, Loves for his own ends, not for you. But make amends now: get you gone, And at the pit of Acheron Meet me i’ th’ morning: thither he Will come to know his destiny. Your vessels and your spells provide, Your charms, and everything beside. I am for th’ air; this night I’ll spend Unto a dismal and a fatal end. Great business must be wrought ere noon. Upon the corner of the moon There hangs a vap’rous drop profound; I’ll catch it ere it come to ground: And that, distill’d by magic sleights, Shall raise such artificial sprites, As, by the strength of their illusion, Shall draw him on to his confusion. He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear His hopes ’bove wisdom, grace, and fear. And you all know, security Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.

HECATE. Have I not reason, you old hags, so saucy and overbold? How did you dare to trade and traffic with Macbeth in riddles and affairs of death; and I, the mistress of your charms, the secret contriver of all harms, was never called to play my part, or show the glory of our art? And, worse still, all you have done has been only for a wayward son, spiteful and wrathful, who, like others, loves for his own ends, not for you. But make amends now: be gone, and at the pit of Acheron meet me in the morning. There he will come to learn his destiny. Prepare your vessels and your spells, your charms, and everything else. I am off to the air; this night I will spend upon a dismal and fatal purpose. Great work must be done before noon. Upon the corner of the moon there hangs a deep, vaporous drop; I will catch it before it falls to the ground. And that, distilled by magic arts, shall raise up such artificial spirits that, by the power of their illusion, shall draw him on to his ruin. He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and carry his hopes above wisdom, grace, and fear. And you all know that overconfidence is mortals' chief enemy.

[_Music and song within, “Come away, come away” &c._]

[_Music and song within, "Come away, come away" etc._]

Hark! I am call’d; my little spirit, see, Sits in a foggy cloud and stays for me.

Listen! I am called; my little spirit, see, sits in a foggy cloud and waits for me.

[_Exit._]

FIRST WITCH. Come, let’s make haste; she’ll soon be back again.

FIRST WITCH. Come, let us hurry; she will soon be back again.

[_Exeunt._]

SCENE VI. Forres. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Lennox and another Lord.

LENNOX. My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, Which can interpret farther: only, I say, Thing’s have been strangely borne. The gracious Duncan Was pitied of Macbeth:—marry, he was dead:— And the right valiant Banquo walk’d too late; Whom, you may say, if’t please you, Fleance kill’d, For Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late. Who cannot want the thought, how monstrous It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain To kill their gracious father? damned fact! How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight, In pious rage, the two delinquents tear That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; For ’twould have anger’d any heart alive, To hear the men deny’t. So that, I say, He has borne all things well: and I do think, That had he Duncan’s sons under his key (As, and’t please heaven, he shall not) they should find What ’twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. But, peace!—for from broad words, and ’cause he fail’d His presence at the tyrant’s feast, I hear, Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell Where he bestows himself?

LENNOX. My earlier words have only touched on your own thoughts, which can interpret further. I only say that things have been strangely handled. The gracious Duncan was pitied by Macbeth: why, of course, he was dead. And the right valiant Banquo walked out too late; whom, you might say, if you please, Fleance killed, since Fleance fled. Men must not walk too late. Who can fail to think how monstrous it was for Malcolm and Donalbain to kill their gracious father? A damnable deed! How it grieved Macbeth! Did he not at once, in righteous rage, tear apart the two guilty men, who were slaves to drink and prisoners of sleep? Was that not nobly done? Yes, and wisely too; for it would have angered any living heart to hear the men deny it. So, I say, he has handled all things well; and I do think that if he had Duncan's sons under lock and key (which, please heaven, he shall not), they would find what it means to kill a father; and so would Fleance. But, quiet! For, on account of blunt words, and because he failed to appear at the tyrant's feast, I hear that Macduff lives in disgrace. Sir, can you tell where he has taken himself?

LORD. The son of Duncan, From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth, Lives in the English court and is receiv’d Of the most pious Edward with such grace That the malevolence of fortune nothing Takes from his high respect. Thither Macduff Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid To wake Northumberland, and warlike Siward That, by the help of these (with Him above To ratify the work), we may again Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights; Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, Do faithful homage, and receive free honours, All which we pine for now. And this report Hath so exasperate the King that he Prepares for some attempt of war.

LORD. The son of Duncan, from whom this tyrant withholds his rightful inheritance, lives in the English court and is received by the most pious Edward with such grace that the malice of fortune takes nothing from his high honour. There Macduff has gone to beg the holy king for aid, to rouse Northumberland and warlike Siward; so that, with their help (and with God above to bless the work), we may once more give food to our tables and sleep to our nights, free our feasts and banquets from bloody knives, do faithful homage, and receive honours freely given, all of which we now long for. And this report has so enraged the King that he prepares for some act of war.

LENNOX. Sent he to Macduff?

LENNOX. Did he send for Macduff?

LORD. He did: and with an absolute “Sir, not I,” The cloudy messenger turns me his back, And hums, as who should say, “You’ll rue the time That clogs me with this answer.”

LORD. He did: and with a flat "Sir, not I," the sullen messenger turns his back on me, and hums, as if to say, "You will rue the time that burdens me with this answer."

LENNOX. And that well might Advise him to a caution, t’ hold what distance His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel Fly to the court of England, and unfold His message ere he come, that a swift blessing May soon return to this our suffering country Under a hand accurs’d!

LENNOX. And that might well advise Macduff to be cautious, and to keep whatever distance his wisdom can arrange. May some holy angel fly to the court of England and deliver his message before he arrives, so that a swift blessing may soon return to this our suffering country, groaning under an accursed hand!

LORD. I’ll send my prayers with him.

LORD. I will send my prayers with him.

[_Exeunt._]

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Text: Project Gutenberg (public domain). This work is in the public domain — William Shakespeare’s original text, with Project Gutenberg license boilerplate removed.